Morning Star
by FallenAngelCyril
Summary: Strange Journey Oneshot. Lucifer and Zelenin; they were not so different.


This story ventures down the Chaotic path of Strange Journey. Be aware of religious themes, light violence, and spoilers.

Edit: I realized that most of my formatting doesn't show due to a problem with the site. Hopefully it is easier to read for some people.

I don't own Shin Megami Tensei, Zelenin, or Lucifer.

* * *

I've been watching His children for a long time. Through tears, happiness, desire, despair, lust, greed, apathy, and altruism, humans have shown to be a dynamic force so conflicting to my own unchanging existence that I can't help but be fascinated by them. The humans may not remember their purpose, but is that so bad? The ability to create or determine their own future, one that defies their "purpose," is personal freedom. I can respect the human desire for "freedom," for it is I who gave the desire to them.

* * *

As with countless times in the past, and as will happen countless times in the future, one of infinitely many worlds is on the verge of a great decision. I find myself curious but distant in this new game, preferring to allow those destined to change the world make their own decisions.

My mistake to remain on the side is first evident when the Angel, Mastema, continues his manipulative game with the humans. Unlike the past, I do not allow myself to interfere, despite this "Divine intervention." One human woman in particular is taken by the Angel's words. She is young still, despite her knowledge of human science, and is confused, frightened, with very little self-confidence. It is her type that fall most easily under the influence of others.

* * *

Her name is Zelenin. The poor human woman falls deeper into the deception of the Angels, unable to gain the confidence in herself to make her own decisions. Her spirit is crushed and slowly trying to rebuild itself, one of the more fascinating traits of humans. What catches my attention about this woman is the occasional darkness that flashes in her eyes. Zelenin's pale eyes harden at the mention or sight of Demons and, for the first time since she came to this world, she stands resolute.

* * *

As I have with many humans, I underestimate the woman. She is ruthless and passionate, willing to sacrifice others to complete her vision. Despite being an Angel, she shines more beautifully now than she ever has. No longer are her eyes wavering or frightened, but are instead filled with determination and strength. She truly believes in what she is fighting for.

I pity her, for it is not her own freedom that led her to this path and she no longer controls her own fate. _His_ followers can be very influential to the weak-minded crying for help. I would know; as The Snake I pioneered those tactics.

* * *

The men have chosen freedom and I applaud them for their decision. The woman's true test begins now.

* * *

The Angels have been defeated and most have fled. Mastema's death causes unrest within the remaining Angels who have remained to fight. Zelenin does not show herself when Mastema is destroyed. I offhandedly wonder if she, too, would be willing to Fall with her friends.

I know the answer before the thought is even completed.

* * *

I've won the game.

As the males finish their duty for the one they call "Mother," I look upon the fallen form of the woman. Zelenin has been torn apart, physically and mentally. Blood drips down her Angelic face and onto the cold, hard floor. Her once golden hair no longer shines, but is stained strawberry with blood while being dull, matted, and sticking to her skin. Her eyes, once holding fear and confusion, then confidence and strength, now stare into nothingness.

Walking over to the still form, I kneel before her, gently brushing aside the remaining strands of her hair that are not bloody. If there was a sun in this dark world, it would reflect brilliantly against the strands between my temporarily-human fingers. Despite our conflicting paths, I can understand everything Zelenin has done.

I, too, gave up everything for my beliefs.

I no longer pity her. Pity is an insult to the memory of one who shines so brightly.


End file.
